


Sushi for One

by misura



Category: Men in Black (Movies)
Genre: Dubcon Touching by Aliens Who May or May Not Be Aware Their Behavior Is Inappropriate, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, dude in distress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: H beamed at her. "You were worried! That's so cute! Oh, and FYI, I wasn't 'poisoned'. I suffered a severe allergic reaction, that's all. No biggie. Happens all the time."M closed her eyes. The worst of it was, she believed him. In H's world, getting poisoned or, excuse her, 'having a severe allergic reaction' probably just counted as a slightly bad day. Occupational hazard.
Relationships: Agent H | Henry/Agent M | Molly Wright
Comments: 17
Kudos: 66
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Sushi for One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meridian_rose (meridianrose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/gifts).



_"Look,"_ H had told her. _"These guys love humans, yeah? Love 'em. And they're super powerful, like, blow-up-the-Earth-six-times-before-breakfast-without-working-up-a-sweat kind of powerful, so if any of them makes a move, for all our sakes, just grin and bear it, yeah?"_

And M had nodded and secretly packed her triple-X large gun, because hell, no, and now here they were.

At least the loud music kept her from hearing most of the conversation. Everyone looked like they were having a good time, except maybe for H, who had six (six!) of the yada-yada-do-not-piss-off aliens draped all over him. M hoped he wasn't allergic to that slime that came oozing out of their arm-tentacles.

 _Really love humans,_ she thought. _Right. Yeah._

H looked like he was signalling for help by blinking at her. M hadn't yet taken the Advanced Morse Code class, though, so she might be wrong. Probably best not to risk a diplomatic incident and besides, the sushi was great. Top-class, no expenses spared, five-bucks a piece back in NY great.

A girl had to have priorities, after all, and right now, Mr Please Let This Tentacle Monster Feel You Up wasn't all that high on M's list. You reaped what you sowed. Chickens will come home to roost. That sort of thing.

But.

Even if H might not have been the brightest, or the smartest, or the most capable, M supposed that he was still _hers_ , in a vague, you-break-it-you-buy-it sort of way, even if all available evidence suggested M hadn't so much done any of the breaking as that she'd been the first and only one to notice H had taken some damage _who had actually done something about it_ , even if it had only been to give him a pet-slash-keeper.

With that in mind, she got out her lipstick, smiling at one of the few tentacle aliens who hadn't joined in on the fun happening around H in a 'look at me, I'm just a puny human, applying some color to my lips the better for you to distinguish me from my colleague' sort of way.

Exactly 4.6 seconds later, she was holding a very, very big gun. Like all good guns, it had a couple of settings. To prove she wasn't completely psychotic or a little bit sentimental, she'd set it to 'stun'.

"Ladies."

None of them looked up. H had gone from frantic blinking to waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Ahem," M said. She had the gun and was willing to use it, but she felt it was important to be a good sport about this. They were going to have a _conversation_. She was going to be _diplomatic_. She wasn't going to just start blasting away because some of those tentacles looked like they were maybe going places she, personally, wouldn't want them to go in H's place.

She was almost sure he'd do the same for her. Almost.

Then again, there weren't exactly a lot of situations where wondering 'what would H do' would be a very productive use of her brainpower, unless it would be to decide on a course of action _not_ to take.

"Hello?"

H made a heroic effort and got one of his arms free. He reached out to her, blinking and waggling his eyebrows at the same time now, and M decided that enough was enough.

"You didn't need to do that, you know," H said. His suit had been dissolved by the tentacle goo, so someone had given him a blanket. The effect was decidedly puppy-ish, with a touch of yummy.

C had been by to bitch about the property damage, the large crater, the hurt feelings from the esteemed diplomats, but then he'd spotted M, giving her very, very big gun a quick once-over to check for any spots, and he'd shut up and wandered away.

"I was - I had that under control. Completely." H swayed a bit on his feet.

M ruthlessly squashed a desire to take him home and tuck him into her bed, nice and warm and safe. If pressed, she might have let him have the sofa - except that she hadn't had time to go shopping for furniture yet, too bad, so sad.

"Yeah," M said. "I could see that."

H nodded happily. "Can't go around shooting aliens, you know. Bad - bad for the image." Blanket notwithstanding, he'd started to shiver a bit.

"Uh-huh," M said. She considered checking her gun again, but H wasn't C. He'd probably offer her tips on how to use and/or clean it.

"But thank you," H said. "I could tell you did what you did because you've got a good heart. A great heart."

"Pretty good aim, too."

H considered. Then he considered some more. Then he started to fall over.

"Endophrohexamine poisoning," C said, popping up out of nowhere - well, out of the cordoned-off area where there'd once been a rather nice club-slash-aquarium, not that you'd be able to tell from the rubble. He slapped something against H's neck. "Classic. You can handle this, yeah? Thanks, M, you're a star." And off he popped again.

Admittedly, in this very moment, there were probably more serious problems to deal with than H looking a bit under the weather.

"You are a star," H said. "A shooting star." He seemed to think that was hilarious.

Under torture, M might admit that it hadn't been bad, in the specific sense that she'd heard worse. From him. While he'd been mostly standing upright and seemed in control of all his senses.

"And ooh, the moon. The sun. An entire galaxy!" H gestured expansively.

M sighed. "Come on, let's go find you some place where you can lie down for a bit, yeah?"

"I don't want to lie down. I want to stand here and look deeply into your eyes and - and - " H imitated an explosion. "Star systems! You ever seen what it looks like when you blow one of those up? An uninhabited one, of course. We're all very civilized around here. Well, most of us are. Some of us. A few. One or two. But the light. The light is beautiful. Like you. Your face. I like you. You get me."

"That, I do, though I'm sure I've got no idea what I ever did to deserve you," M said, though mostly she didn't mean it. H wasn't so bad. A lot of the time, H was okay. He was sweet, and charming, and not a complete idiot all the time, though of course that meant that it felt all the more annoying when he was.

It was so much worse to think _'You're better than this,'_ about someone than to sigh and think, _'Same old H, could've seen that coming'_. It was _frustrating_ , to know there was another H inside of him, some guy who really was some sort of living legend, the best agent ever.

Then again, M didn't know if that guy would have actually been any _fun_. The best agent ever probably wouldn't have needed a partner, or bought any of her BS.

The best agent ever also wouldn't have snored quite as loudly as H did while she was driving him to the only place in London where she knew he'd be safe.

 _Beggars, choosers,_ M thought, doing her best to get him up the stairs without either of them breaking their necks.

H screamed at the same time M's alarm went off, which was some talent.

She woke up enough to make sure which of the two she smacked and which one she merely waved at a bit, because it wasn't her alarm clock's fault she needed to get up.

"Ow," H said.

"Shut up," M said. She'd been having a nice dream, about being asleep in her bed all by herself. Reality felt like a disappointment. "Give me ten more minutes, mkay?"

"Ten more minutes of what?" H asked. He was whispering, as if worried someone might overhear.

M turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if she wished for H to be gone really, really hard, it'd happen and she'd be able to wake up again by herself.

"M?" H kicked her. Softly. "M? Talk to me, M. Mo-hmph."

His lips against the palm of her hand felt - _icky,_ M thought with great determination, like the way his warm, solid body felt under hers. "Shut. Up," she hissed, removing her hand from his mouth.

"Not a morning person, all right, got it." H grinned at her and crossed his arms behind his head. "See? This is great. You and me, getting to know each other better. I love it. Don't you love this?"

"You were poisoned by one of those tentacle things," M whispered. "So no, I don't."

H beamed at her. "You were worried! That's so cute! Oh, and FYI, I wasn't 'poisoned'. I suffered a severe allergic reaction, that's all. No biggie. Happens all the time."

M closed her eyes. The worst of it was, she believed him. In H's world, getting poisoned or, excuse her, 'having a severe allergic reaction' probably just counted as a slightly bad day. Occupational hazard.

She wondered if he'd have been as casual about it all if she'd been the one almost falling over, then felt vaguely ashamed of herself, because she knew that he wouldn't have. He'd have been worried, he'd have gotten her help. He might, perhaps, not have fired a very, very big gun at the parties responsible, but of such small differences, great partnerships were made.

"So what are you thinking?" H asked. "Breakfast in bed, watch some telly, come in late and hope the boss doesn't notice?"

 _I'm thinking you should probably get checked out by a doctor who knows what to look for when someone's gotten a dose of endo-whatever,_ M thought. On the other hand, H seemed back to normal and he sounded like he knew what had happened.

"Given that you're the boss, I'm pretty sure you'd notice," she said.

"And you'd be wrong, see? I can be very oblivious when I want to be. It's an art. One of my many talents, if you wish," H said. "Anyway, like you just pointed out, I'm sick. Poisoned, remember? So I think I should stay right here, for my own safety."

"Right here meaning in my bed?" M surprised herself by being more or less okay with that. There were worse places for H to be than in her bed. At least he'd be safe there, and out of trouble.

The novelty'd probably wear off in another day or so, but there was no reason why she couldn't enjoy it while it lasted, and breakfast in bed did sound good.

"Well." H wriggled a bit. "Your apartment, let's say. After all, someone's going to have to make us that breakfast in bed, and I think we both know it's not going to be you. Besides, I could use a shower."

"I scrub your back if you scrub mine?" M offered.

"All right! Shower first, then breakfast, then we'll see." H beamed at her.

M smiled back at him, then yawned as her body reminded her that it was early, so early, and she'd had a late night yesterday, what with everything that had happened, the club and the aliens and H and so on, so really, she _deserved_ -

"M?" H asked, sounding like he was talking to her from some great distance.

"Ten. More. Minutes. Please."

Someone (all right, so probably H, given there wasn't anyone else around) kissed her forehead. "Have fifteen. You deserve it."

 _Yes. I do,_ M thought, feeling herself drift off again. _I really do._


End file.
